Queen of all Slayers
by M.R. Zero
Summary: After S6 and before S7 Classic scary Sunnydale, and, now, enter mystery gal Morrigan Grimes, skinny girl with the unexaggerated strength of an army. She'll attempt luring Buffy into her power trip, all to get closer to her main goal. R
1. Several Encounters

The gypsies have long dedicated their lives to quench their thirst for revenge against the undead. The first real fruit of the their efforts came when they gave the vampire Angelus a soul to torment him. But that anticipated reward turned bitter sweet when the cursed blood drinker's nefarious family returned with their own plot of reprisal. Afterward though, one among those renown gypsy tribes received a gift that ultimately came with a price…

Buffy was walking in the streets of the wonderful little town of Sunnydale, home of the weird and the wrong caused by a teeny little portal the locals chose to block out of their seemingly perfect lives. Buffy Summers and her close social circle of friends know very much about the Hellmouth, that cursed portal, although barely mentioned in the past months. Buffy had other troubles in mind. With Giles and Willow in England, Tara resting in peace, Xander and Anya trying to awkwardly fix things between them though Xander busy reconstructing Sunnydale High and Spike gone for places unknown, Buffy deserved some time to retreat to her own little world. As she licked her rocky road ice cream under the warm Californian night sky, Dawn caught up with her, trying to keep the ice cream on top of  her cone.

Dawn: Buffy! Going somewhere?

Buffy: Oh! Sorry. Doing my solo thing again, huh?

Dawn: That's okay, I understand. sigh

Buffy: What's up?

Dawn: School starts in two weeks. Can I skip?

Buffy: You really think my answer will turn out positive?

Dawn: Positive for me, or half-full glass positive?

Buffy: The kind of positive that you will go to school with.

Dawn rolled her eyes and came across Anya in the process. The vengeance demon came to the two girls.

Anya: Hey!

Having put all her energy on emphasizing the monosyllabic word, Anya looked around waiting for the awkward moment to pass. She finally and literally jumped on another conversation.

Anya: You wouldn't have seen a man-rat creeping around here, would you?

Dawn: The cursee hit the road?

Anya: Yeah! But the job is half-done; I still have to feed him to a hungry multiple headed

hydra. I just have to find a multiple headed hydra after I get whiskers back.

Buffy: I worry about all this Anya. You know I'm supposed to protect the… us and

letting you feed the… us to extinct Greek mythologies isn't what I'm all for. I should even stop you, because--

Anya: Yes, I remember unmistakably that conversation where the two of us spoke about

the dangers of power and the evilness of demons. I ate licorice and a dancing purple dinosaur sang merrily on the TV set that was placed behind you.

Buffy: Hum--

Anya: Oh, but more to the point. Yes, I shall not avenge if the victim is to be put in any

kind of danger. I wouldn't want to contradict the Slayer thus making you have to come and bitch-slap me until death follows. nervous chuckles

Buffy: Good. What about the hydra?

Anya: Cuz you know, Anya is _just_ a demon now. She hunts and maims like an animal.

Buffy: I didn't mean--  

Anya: Of course you didn't--

Then a rude english man interrupted, coming in between Buffy and Anya, grabbing the slayer by the shoulders.

Spike: Help me, Slayer. Help me…Buffy…

Spike cried and fell into Buffy's arms. The girls stunned on sight. 

He was in the Summers' living room drinking a cup of blood. His clothes were changed from its original gloominess to a very distinct lameness, the bleached hairdo was traded for its natural shade which was of a brownish blond and his eyes were filled of such never-before-seen sadness and turmoil. Dawn looked at Spike uncertain how to feel; disgusted, happy or worried. Perhaps it was a mix of all those. Buffy was in shock, and Anya was jittery, unable to stay put for some reason. Buffy knew exactly what to say to her.

Buffy: Sure, Anya, you can go fetch your gerbil.

Anya: Thanks!

As soon as she thanked the slayer, the vengeance demon teleported away. Buffy sat in front of Spike to talk.

Buffy: A soul… That's kinda déjà vu don't you think?

Spike remained silent

Buffy: I really don't know what to say. I--

Dawn: Why did you come back anyway? It's not like we missed you or anything, so…

why?

Buffy found her sister insubordinate and was about to let her know, but the words of scolding got stuck in her throat, gulping. Spike started to talk with a broken and feeble voice.

Spike: (inaudible) nowhere to go. Seemed like… oh my god…

Buffy felt sorry for the vampire with a soul, though she was unable to start a conversation with him. She then strolled to the kitchen with Dawn to her heels who was stomping the floor more than she was walking.

Dawn: I mean, Buffy, he-- he nearly raped you! How can you just let that go?

Buffy: Believe me; I won't. The guy is destroyed emotionally, I'm not about to worsen it.

Dawn: Maybe you'll do that, Buffy. But I won't go nice kitty on him.

Buffy: Look at you, all like me when I was your age. Oh…

Buffy broke the stormy conversation and she hugged her little sister. Dawn smiled as she was being freed of the Slayer grip.

Dawn: Oh, by the way. She grabbed an apple and crunched it loudly, slurping the juice.

She then started to mumble the next few words I can't patrol tonight. Something came up.

Buffy: Oh! Surprised and disappointed

Dawn: Actually, sleepiness came up. I'm kinda worn out having patrolled the last-

awhile. I'll retire to bed early before school starts. Getting used to a more sane

schedule.

Buffy: Sure.

Buffy leaned sideways and glanced on Spike in the living room who seemed enthralled by the content of his cup. Dawn saw her sister's look of worry on her face.

Dawn: I won't stake him, I swear.

At Xander's apartment, Anya and an enraged Xander are talking to each other.

Xander: I'll stake him, I swear!

Anya: Stop it. I'm not the referee here, McEnroe. Plus, the vein on your forehead doesn't

match with your skin tone.

Xander: Sorry. Can't help it. Spike back is as happy times as the return of Black Death.

Anya: Well we're sorry we're not so perfect, Xander. I'm a demon now. No longer

human. You, human. Me, demon. Deal with it.

Xander: Wo! Breathe. I didn't say _anything_ about you turning vengeance-y. This is about

  Blondie, not you.

Anya: Well… _sure_. Slight pause Bye.

Anya disappeared in thin air, leaving Xander completely quizzical. The look on his face remained; astounded and irritated. It's now late at night and our blond heroine marches, uninterested, through the town's cemetary. She tries to remain amused by gliding her index on the rough surface of the gravestone next to her, then brushing the dust off with her thumb.

Buffy: Maybe I should clean here once in a while. Being here more than the keeper I

probably have some sort of dibs on the place. Don't you agree…Reads on the carvings of the headstone Miss Buns!? What kind of name is--

Miss Buns got out of the ground and before she could even fully get out of soil, she was staked and dusted. 

Buffy: Another clean kill. Well done, me!

Unexpected to start a conversation, Buffy startled when a low and languorous woman's voice followed the Slayer's clever comment.

"I have to disagree, Slayer. There is no pride in killing without giving the adversary a chance to retaliate. What you did, is cowardice."

Buffy: Please! You're one to talk, _unknown voice_.

"I'm here."

Buffy, led by the voice, turned and saw a woman sitting on top of a tombstone. She had crossed her legs and lifted her leather coat to cover her knees. Her face had something; a glow of some sort. Seen ever too clearly in the dark of the night even though her face was pale and her hair of a grayish white. She didn't look like anything, yet she was everything.  She had an antique leather carrier, which its strap went from her left shoulder to finish off across her body where the containing area was, resting on her right hip. The woman didn't bother to glance at our hero and continued looking at her nails, fingers bent towards her to observe them better.

Buffy: Could you be more clichéd? Want a chair and a cat to twirl to me, Mr. No? Make

that cat Mrs. Bigglesworth since you already gave us a big laugh.

Woman: Monotonic and sarcastic I beg of you, stop making me laugh. The tears are

flooding.

Buffy: Is that--

Woman: Shut up. I'm Morrigan, Buffy. (Looks at Buffy from top to bottom) I'd love

to fight you… but… I'm not that bad.

Buffy: But you know I'm the Slayer, so why would you want to get your ass

kicked voluntarily?

Morrigan: I can't even speak about you. You are so… insolent. And annoying. I might

just go and comeback later.

Buffy: Can't, sorry. You smell vamp number five all the way over here.

Buffy approaches the mysterious woman while maintaining conversation with her.

Morrigan: Unfortunately, you are mistaken, Buffy.

Buffy: Am I?

Morrigan nodded and made her way towards Buffy who had stop moving. She walked languorously among the buried dead. Her saunter was similar to a killer set on its victim. Not a mass murderer, no. But one who delicately chooses his next prey. No less than a game, a simple roll of dice.

Morrigan: I'm way more than a scanty vampire. I came here to see you. I came here, to

observe what is a contemporary Slayer like; is she still alone? is she still

miserable? is she still… so dark? I need you to be dark.

The she-stranger came face to face with the Slayer and walked around her. She was still talking with the same smooth tone as she was before being provoked. Her voice, her traits… were all so alluring. Even to Buffy…

Morrigan: Life is sinister enough. Being a Slayer adds this burden that comes as a curse

but grows on you to become a blessing. I see you have lived to learn that.

Buffy: You know quite a lot about Slayers. A fan, maybe?

Morrigan: I know that you know who I am. And please, fans don't know anything. We

alone know what we are.

Buffy: You're telling me you're a Slayer?

Morrigan: It surprises you, doesn't it? If you were to doubt me, then fight me. I'll show

you.

Buffy: You're call.

Our favorite blond took action and drove her fist to Morrigan's face. The woman claiming to be a Slayer stopped the attack when she caught the mighty punch. She then twisted Buffy's arm which forced her to turn and then kicked her of a very strong blow to the back. Buffy, who got her mojo running for the fight, quickly flipped back on her feet.

Buffy: I wasn't expecting that.

Morrigan remained still while Buffy ran to her. As Buffy punched her opponent in face and stomach, the receiver of blows didn't even flinch. Morrigan seemed like she wanted to ridicule Buffy's attack power compared to hers and also that she could easily put it up with a certain ease. It was time for silvered locks to strike; twice she punched and was blocked. All this according to Morrigan's plan of action yet again. Buffy regained her confidence and propelled her kick to shove it to Morrigan's ribs. To her surprise, Buffy received one heck of a blow to the thigh that made her step back for a few. Buffy then grabbed Morrigan's shoulders and was ready to jump over her, but again, her attack failed when Morrigan overpowered the Slayer balancing above her head and threw her to the ground. As Buffy was getting up, Morrigan covered Buffy's face with her hand and was pushing her fingers against the skin. Panicking, Buffy was franticly throwing her arms here and there while trying to force her foe to let go, but she hit nothing but air. With one single hand, Morrigan effortlessly overpowered the Slayer's strength yet again when she pulled Buffy down to bash her head in with her knee. And so Buffy was stunned… she knew she had lost this battle. Her senses were troubled, and so was she.

Morrigan: You need to stop being insubordinate. Not because you saved the world

countless times and fought dreadful foes that it makes you invincible.

Buffy: Well I'd say that's a pretty good start!

Buffy noticed she had blood dripping down her face, the nails having been buried deep into her skin.

Morrigan: I'll come back to you soon, Buffy. Some of us still need you around here…

Buffy got back on her feet and saw Morrigan fading away in the distance. She chose not to chase her, knowing there was nothing more to do.


	2. Disturbance

All was black and nothing could be seen. From somewhere, Dawn's voice could be heard calling her sister's name.

Dawn: Buffy? Buffy?! Buffy!!

The first thing Buffy saw as she opened her eyes was Dawn flicking her awake on the forehead.

Dawn: Hey! We need to go shopping for back-to-school stuff.

Buffy: Flicking; not best way to wake me up. And isn't it too early? Don't stores open at

10?

Dawn: It's 2 in the afternoon. 

Buffy: Oh… okay. Give me 5.

Dawn uncomfortably raised her hand.

Buffy: Not-- 5 minutes, Dawn.

Dawn: I, I knew that.

Dawn got out of the room. Buffy laid there for awhile and then talked to herself.

Buffy: A dream…?

Buffy raised herself to sit on her bed. She felt a terrible headache and then rubbed her forehead.

Buffy: Ow… no.

Buffy got out of bed and next she and Dawn wandered the town together, carrying a few bags of stores along with them. The sunny Sunnydale temperature made no exception that day, in fact, it was sunnier and hotter than usual. The Summers Sisters seemed they had everything they had for Dawn's school supplies, but the kid sis wanted way more.

Dawn: And a new backpack too.

Buffy: Money, Dawn, money.

Dawn: Ok, but if I get ridiculed because my bag is passé, I'll have you to blame for it.

Buffy: I am ready to be your blame-target. Like it'd be something new. Slight pause

You kids these days still say "passé"?

Dawn: Oh! I want something else too. Don't worry; money uninvolved. I want to see

Xander. Poor guy has been working under the sun like this all summer. All hot and sweaty with his muscles shining…

Buffy looked at her sister surprised with a crooked smile.

Dawn: Oh…hum

Buffy: Let's forget _that_! Oh… you go. I think I'm gonna retreat to our humble abode and

Scooby-out some info about something.

Dawn: Oh, ok. Will you be ok… with Spike I mean?

Buffy: Considering he's still there, yes I will.

Her door unlocked and from it came in Buffy. She looked around the living room first. No sign of Spike. Buffy cried his name hoping he would answer back. But no response. She then decided to head upstairs where she proceeded directly through to Willow's and Tara's old room. When Buffy pushed the door open, something blocked it from opening entirely. She reached behind and grabbed a box full of books that had tumbled down. The box piles in the room were counted by the dozens. The remains of the Magic Box. As the Slayer made her way through what was once a bedroom, she took 2 or 3 boxes and left the room with them. She passed the 2nd floor corridor again and noticed her room was darker than normal; curtains pulled, no light. Complete darkness. She put down her research supplies and proceeded in. She expected to see her ex-lover Spike, but the room was empty. She approached her cupboard. Tenderly, she looked upon the pictures that were inserted on the sides of her mirror. Buffy approached her fingers to caress Willow's smiling face on one photograph. She sighed and arranged her hair in the mirror. When she was satisfied of her looks, she turned around and boom! He was there. Standing. Like a statue; soul-less. But it was actually his soul that was the reason of his sorrow. The irony. Causing no reflection in the mirror, Buffy did not see Spike. Overwhelming melancholy clouded the Slayer's senses as well. She was angry at him and contained it scarcely even though she knew of his recent predicaments. She pushed him on the chest, but not of a fierce push, yet Spike lost balance and fell sitting on the bed.

Buffy: Hey! Don't do that! You think you can just sneak up on me like that!?

Spike was, again, silent.

Buffy: Again with the silence! I get you got the remorse button way pushed down, but

simmer down on the hush-y-ness, alright?

Spike: You clearly can't understand can you?

Buffy: I got involved way too many times in the vicious circle of guilt. So spare me.

Spike: Oh! You didn't save one girl, or you came in late to save another guy? That's not

the same. Buffy… I killed people. _I _killed…_ __thousands!! I enjoyed horror, and suffering. I took lives. You think of one death, how it can affect so much. Like Tara… One death almost caused the world to end! And I killed thousands… I… bloody hell!!! _

And Spike let the tears flow. The poor man… so traumatized. All this because of himself. For the first time since he came back, Buffy felt somewhat close to what he was feeling. She sat next to him and was nearly crying herself, the tears welling up. He was falling apart and Buffy warmly wrapped her arm around him. His head then literally fell on her lap. The sight of them the way they were was heart-wrenching. 

Back from the emotionally filled moment upstairs, Buffy looked discouraged as it appeared hours rummaging through the boxes, though only half an hour passed in reality. From the living room's sofa, the house looked empty to her. It made her sad for a moment. Every little thing in that house could be linked to something awful that had happened one time or another. As she focused on what was before her, her vision blurred from the sides. And then, the haze took all over her eyesight. The phone rang and Buffy jumped back to reality, her daydreaming moments cut clean. She picked up the receptor and the voice of an older man was heard on the other side, not crisp, but still authoritary. The English gentleman on the line made Buffy's day complete sense.

Buffy: Hello. Giles!! How's London?

Giles: It's far. And rainy. It's London.

Buffy: And… how is she doing?

Giles: She is persevering. Which is good.

Buffy: W-i-t-c-h is good?

Giles: No, no. The _other_ "witch." How is everything in Sunnydale? I wouldn't want

things to get carried away the way they did before.

Buffy: Two big news. All non-threatening… I think. One of which is our Passions-fan is

back. And he came with extra. He got soul-ed. Slight pause You still there?

Giles: Yes, I--How did he-- Gypsies? 

Buffy: No. Not them again. Call it a demonic African genie who granted him a wish.

Giles: _Spike wished for his soul back?__ Spike?! _

Buffy: I think they pulled a Survivor on him. You know… the whole double-crossing

thing. It's all very unsure.

Giles: I bet he must feel terrible. I somehow feel sorry… yet lacking of care. But what

was the other thing you--Oh I'll have to get back to you on that. I'll call again this week? Say hi to everyone for me.

Buffy: Oh. Ok. Yes. Yes, I will. Bye.

As soon as she hung up, Spike, from the living room, fixed and almost mesmerized by the Summers family pictures, tentatively asked Buffy a question that burned his lips for quite a while now.

Spike: Does he know? Do they... know? About the r--

Buffy: Why else Dawn would be mad at you? Spike, I--

Spike: Please-- Call me William.

Buffy nodded and was about to again enter the realm of sympathy for the vampire. But the door slammed open and shocked the compassion right out of her. An impressive figure stormed in; Xander was in a mad fury

Xander: Where is he!? Where is Spike!?!

Buffy: Care to say "hi" first? Maybe followed by a "how are you?" Well since you ask

I'm doing quite well.

Xander: You can't calm me down. Where is--

Xander saw him. He saw Spike. Or William one might say. Nevertheless, Xander had targeted him like a homing missile.

Xander: You son of a bitch! You still came back after what you did! I'm gonna--

And William was lifted from the ground by Xander who gripped him by the neckline of his shirt. The Bloody didn't retaliate as much as Xander would have anticipated, and hoped, for it would have been easier to stake him.

William: Ease up! Let me go!

Xander: Really? You'd want that wouldn't you? 

Buffy: Xander, let him go.

Buffy forced Xander to let go of William and Buffy's best-friend looked at her in awe, betrayed.

Xander: You're taking his side?!

Buffy: No, _no_! I'm not taking anyone's side!

William massaged his neck, hurt from Xander's grasp. And so the attacker rebelled against Buffy and went straight for Spike again. He dragged him to the opened entrance door. The sun was positively present and the sunshine had entered the Summers house. William was hauled dangerously near it by the second. And so he became bathed by it. The sun rays pierced through his skin like razors. The stench of burnt was caused by the boiling of the skin after it ignited. Buffy pushed Xander and William rushed back in. The words were few, but the tension was undeniable. 

Buffy: This isn't Spike, Xander! Well not really.

Xander: Spikebot?! You're telling me this is some kind of a Spikebot?!

Buffy: Ok, the next one who talks will get some serious Slayer ass-kicking! Silence

Spike is no longer Spike. He is kind of William, as in "with a soul." Not that I don't enjoy explaining that story more times a day then there are calories in box of Lucky Charms, but I have some research to do. So you wanna help?

Living on the Hellmouth made the Scoobies indifferent to some weird occurrences. And Spike having a soul was among those for Xander. For his blond friend's sake, he decided to put the idea of the vampire he loved to hate having nearly raped Buffy on hiatus. However, his anger towards him hadn't the least bit dissipated and he wasn't nearly close to let that go.

Xander: Yeah… sure. What'd you need to research on?

Xander, Buffy and William trailed to the living room as Buffy cleared up the object of her attention.

Buffy: I know there's not so much of em, but I need to check up on the Watchers' Diaries

for a gal. Name's Morrigan. 

Something lit up in William's eyes. 

Xander: Must be special if she's in those.

Buffy: She was strong. Like… Glory-multiplied-by-ten strong.

Xander: Bad Nezzla'khan flashback; broken noses hurt.

The Slayer noticed that thing that glowed in The Bloody's eyes. 

Buffy: What is it now?

William: I knew a Morrigan once. If they're all the same, they're bad news.

Xander: I think we got enough of those already. Channel 5 at 6 is going hyperactive

               working on their one hour bulletin on a pasty molester back in good ol'

               Sunnydale.

William: I know what I did was wrong! I know that now!! So-- So sod off.

Xander: You want me to force you into a perfect suntan again!?

Buffy: Slayer ass-kicking! Silence again

Xander: Description on the Morrigan girl?

Buffy: A tad higher than me. Very calm and serene looking. Silver long hair, wearing a

zoo of leather. The shy ones… always doing dominatrix. She was so enthralling and well-informed on Slayerism. She reminded me of the Prince of Darkness.

Xander: Master-err … Dracula?

Buffy: Boy, he really had you whipped, didn't he? 

William: Morrigan Grimes. I know her. If she's here, something bad is up.

Buffy: If you know something, tell us.

Xander: Yeah c'mon now Willy; bare your soul to us.

William: Her mother turned dark witch soon after Morrigan was born, much like Willow

when-- And her father was a Watcher. And also a gypsy. He was buried in his work and she was gone to evil's side so the kid was shipped to her relatives of gypsy kinfolk. They raised her more than her real parents ever did. They taught her everything about their heritage and their loathe for vampires. When the clan had been wiped out and news that her mother had died, her father brought her into the Council. He basically trained her to become like him; cold, mean and overly into work. She was about 7 years old then. Well she became the youngest Watcher in the history of the Council at the age of 19. Remarkable student they said. She was all like her father. The day after she had ascended to her new role, her father was murdered and so did his charge when they fell into a trap. Another Slayer was about to be called and the council made their worse mistake ever; they chose Morrigan. Her first strike was when she refused to have a Watcher, considering she would be her own. But she indeed got one, much to her dislike. She came in touch with her dark side when she deliberately let her Watcher be killed. It only went downhill from there. She then completely disowned the Council and became a wandering ticking time bomb. Fighting for what they believed in, the Council was relentless and kept on sending Morrigan a Watcher. But the bodies piled up. A Watcher genocide. One night, Morrigan decided to take care of no less than The Master. She was perhaps a rover, but she was still a Slayer. He didn't kill her though, but nor did she. He saw something in her… and our big bad Brethren guru had recently risen from the void of time. Aurelius had been back for a while somehow, and he gave Morrigan the purest blood he could find; his. And so she became a vampire as strong as The Master. Even more so since she was the Slayer. And she has been around a little more than I. This is why she's bad news.

Buffy: Wow. Thanks. Might help me banging her against the wall next time I knock

into her.

William: Do me a favor and don't. She is worse than everything you have ever been up

against.

Xander: So she is a purely sired watcher-slayer-gypsy thing? I say that Morrigan girl

has some serious baggage.

Buffy: She probably even has her own luggage-carrier.

Xander: What did she want with you?

Buffy: She wanted to see what a "contemporary Slayer" was like. She wanted to fight

me. And she did. 

Xander: Good results?

Buffy: For her, yes. For me, ouch.

William: If she fought you and you're not dead, this means she held back.

A beeping sound gets Xander's attention. He takes his beeper from his belt and looks at the number.

Xander: 733. Code Red; out of something. I'd bet on drywall. The guys need me.

Buffy: Up and away, constructor-man! Realized her joke sucked I need some rest. Hey

did you happen to see Dawn today?

Xander: Today? No. Alright well, call me if you need me. Bye.

Buffy followed Xander to the door. He kissed Buffy good-bye on the cheek before glancing loathingly at William. And the door closed shut. 

The door reopens and the sun has set. The town is now emerged in the darkness of the night. Buffy came in. Some lights were left on, but no sign of anyone at home.

Buffy: Dawn, are you there?

Buffy looked in the living room and saw the Diaries all scrambled on the coffee table, just as she left it before going out God knows where. Thirsty, she went right pass the living room and into the kitchen. Once there, Buffy circled the counter and faced the armoires. She raised herself on tipsy toes to reach a Scooby Doo's Daphne glass, turned around, got the milk out of the fridge, poured herself a glass on the counter, and, alas, drank. And the surprise made her spit and choke. Something caught her off-guard and made her startle. William. He stood right across her. She regained her calm and her dislike for him after the short-lived commotion.

Buffy: Do that again and you'll end up in my ever handy Dustbuster.

William: Maybe that's what I want… at least what I deserve.

Short silence

Buffy:  How long you think of taking my roof as your own personal squatting lot?

William: I know why you're mad at me. I am at Spike, too. He was somebody else,

Buffy. Some _thing_ else. The opposite of me… Of all people, I hoped you could maybe understand.

Buffy: It's hard! Put yourself in my place! We can't forget in a matter of days what you

did for so many years as Mr. Hyde.

William: You did it for Ange--

Buffy: With time, yes. And you can't seriously relate to him, can you!? He was-- You

were-- White and black. Love and exploit. Things that are worlds apart from each

other.

Again with the silence

Buffy: Sigh of desperation Did you see Dawn this afternoon?

William: No.

Buffy: Ok, well I'm going out on patrol, if you see her… tell her I'm mad. 'Going to see

Xander'. Yeah right.

Buffy stored the milk back, put her glass in the sink and went out by the backdoor. William stood there for a while, unable to think properly. He moved at last and dragged the cadaver that is his body out the front door. A few moments after the door closed, the phone rang. And rang. And rang. The answering machine caught on.

Buffy on machine: You've reached the Summers' residence. We're not here, so get a life. 

Beep

Giles: Buffy! It's me. The Council has reached me with horrible news. Well… they never

contact me if it's not awful anyway. They have been robbed of a powerful magic relic. They are led to believe the thief has gone to you. You have to be on your guard. Whatever you do; stay at home, and don't patrol! You hear me? She is a sired Slayer. Yes, very unusual, but she is to be feared. As long as you're in the house, you'll be safe. Please, Buffy--

A feminine hand with dark nail polish caressed the phone receptor. She picked it up and stuck it to her ear. And a peaceful voice sang through her full lips, carrying a conversation doomed from the start.

Morrigan: Hi.

Giles: Hum… hello. May I speak to Buffy, please? 

Morrigan: No.

Giles: Who--who are you?

Morrigan: Will you be adorable and tell the Council that they're wrong; everything they

do is wrong. Home, sweet, Summers home.

Giles: Morrigan? You better not have--

And slowly she put the receptor back to where it was, hanging up on Giles. Stone hard, her nails clang against the answering machine. Then,  by a swift and strong pull from the wall , she disconnected it in a snap. Her always unpredictable mood surprised again going from rage to serenity when gently she tucked the wires at the back of the entrance cupboard, so there would be no visible sign of aggression against the device. The camera moved toward the opening door letting in Dawn. She walked right pass where Morrigan was, but no sign of Morrigan. Her stealth and speed surely made her escape from the Slayer's sister. The young one went to the same cupboard Morrigan was in front of. She shuffled through the letters and publicities she had just picked up. One caught her utmost attention.

Dawn: Hmm, free carpet cleaning with 5 gallons of carpet cleaner. That's a done deal!

She dropped the papers on the table and something grabbed her curiosity. She frowned and bend to look closer at the answering machine. Normally, a light would indicate it was in proper use. So no light was indeed non-functioning answering machine behavior. As the camera followed Dawn's bending over the machine, Morrigan could be seen standing in the shadows of the living room, all the more lifeless and inflexible. Dawn sensed something and glanced at her back. No one. She swore she felt someone was watching her, eyes burning her back… The ringing pierced the silence of the house once more and Dawn jumped at the sound of it. She picked it up, the Englishman again.

Dawn: Hello.

Giles: Dawn!? Get out of the house! Get out of the house, right now!

She had learned from past mistakes to always do what Giles tells you to do. She let the receptor fall to the floor. Turning quickly to the door, Morrigan stood in front of her, as an obstacle to Dawn's freedom. Dawn was about to run by the dining room and escape by the backdoor. Morrigan, somehow, convinced Dawn otherwise as soon she spoke her first sentence.

Morrigan: No, Dawn. Please, wait.

Dawn: You know my name. Who are you?

Morrigan: I only came here to find a Diary. I don't want to do you any harm.

Dawn: Why didn't you ask for it instead?

Morrigan: You can say that… it's not in my nature to ask.

Dawn was cautious and attentive to Morrigan's movements as she came to pick up the receptor on the carpet. She pushed a button on the base and put the handset where it belonged. The phone was set on speaker function.

Morrigan: Giles, say hi to Dawn. Tell her I'm not mad.  

Giles: You're not; you're bloody mad!!

Morrigan: Watchers simply don't like me, Dawn. But I'm one of the good guys.

Giles: The necklace is too strong for you, Morrigan.

Morrigan: Giles, you and I both know the Council is worst than vampires, or demons.

Maybe they need to be shaken up a little. But I don't know. I'm not as

interested in-- (...)This is boring.

She hung up on Giles yet another time. Dawn didn't know what to think.

Morrigan: Where are his Diaries. Giles' Watcher's Diaries.

Dawn was stunned into silence

Morrigan: I'm getting impatient!

And she grabbed Dawn's arm who was trying her best to get free, but, of course, to no avail. She threw Dawn all the way onto the coffee table which crashed on impact. The next second, Morrigan crawled slowly on top of Dawn.

Morrigan: Please tell me. I don't want to come down to harm a kid. I hate killing

children. (...) Oh! 

She saw that Dawn laid on the Diaries, all out and about. She took Dawn into her arms and comfortably laid her down on the arm-chair. She finally found the book she wanted. Before leaving, Morrigan leaned over Dawn who was hurt from the crash, and closed her eyes as she softly kissed her on the forehead. She also ghastly whispered two simple words to Dawn previous to her departure.

'Never die.'


End file.
